summary: in which connor goes to kindergarten and zoe goes for dance

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In August, Connor began kindergarten. On one hand, he was excited—he could learn how to read and write and spell! But at the same time, he felt incredibly nervous, he didn't know what would happen or what to expect and what if the children there didn't like him? Zoe was distraught, she couldn't imagine being away from Connor for so long! What would she do? She would be so bored at home. They were never apart.

Except when one of them got time out for squabbling.

On Connor's first day of kindergarten, his whole family dropped him off.

"There's so many children," Zoe said as they arrived.

"I know…" Connor mumbled nervously, gripping his bag a little too tightly. "I don't really wanna go anymore."

"Everyone says that on their first day," Larry assured him. "After your first day, you'll like it."

"I don't think so," he responded skeptically. "There's too many people."

"Connor, you're a big boy now! You'll be fine," Cynthia said. "I'm so proud of you!"

Larry reverse the car into a parking spot. But Connor made no move to get out. Larry got out of the car to open the door on Connor's side. "Come on, son, I'll walk you in."

"Don't wanna," he mumbled, shrinking further into his seat.

Larry gave him a hand. "It'll be fun, see? There's such a big playground."

"There's too many people."

"What's wrong with people? You're a big boy now, you should learn to deal with people!"

"Why can't Zoe go too?" Connor asked, changing the subject.

"Zoe is younger than you, she'll go next year."

"I want to go next year, then," he said stubbornly.

Larry sighed. "Come on, Connor, or you're going to be late.

"Don't want to go!"

Larry reached forward to grab Connor's hand, giving him an encouraging squeeze. "Come, Connor. I'll walk you to your classroom."

"No!" he tried in vain to pull his hand away.

"Connor, please, it'll be lots of fun," Cynthia said.

"I don't want!" he yelled, beginning to kick the seat in front of him.

"Connor, stop, you're a big boy, you're not supposed to throw tantrums." Larry said, picking him up.

He howled and thrashed, "Let me go! I don't want to go in!"

"Connor, calm down and listen to me," Larry said through gritted teeth as Connor gave him a painful kick near the knee. His patience was beginning to wear thin, but he held Connor tightly against him until the boy had calmed down significantly. "Connor, it's not that bad, it's going to be so fun—you'll make lots of friends, play games, learn how to read…"

"Will they really teach me how to read lots of books there?" Connor sniffled.

"Yes, you'll read lots of books," Larry smiled. "You'll like that, right?"

Connor nodded, but when he glanced back at the building he ducked his head into Larry's side. "There's so many people…" he mumbled, wiping his tears on Larry's clean tie.

Larry tried not to cringe. "Well… Connor, a lot of the people here are parents, and the parents are going to leave. We'll be leaving too, there's just going to be children in there. And the teachers will take care of you," he quickly added.

"I want Zoe to go, too."

"Zoe is too young, she'll go next year, okay?" Larry handed Connor his Thomas the Tank backpack. "I need to get to work soon, and you need to go your class. Come, I'll walk you in." Connor sniffled, looking conflicted but less reluctant. "You can learn to read or learn a new game or draw, and you can come home and tell me all about it, okay?"

"Okay…" Connor finally gave in, and followed Larry into the classroom, Cynthia beaming in pride from the car and Zoe excitedly waving through the window at her brother.

In another five minutes, Larry returned to the car. "Well, that was… something," he declared, sliding into the driver's seat and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Is Mummy crying?" Zoe asked as Cynthia sniffled a little.

"No, no, I—" she quickly wiped at the corner of her eye. "I'm not, it—it's just that my baby boy's all grown up!"

"Am I grown up too?" Zoe asked.

Cynthia chuckled. "No, you need to be my baby for a while more."

"Aww, okay," Zoe said, leaning back in her seat and cuddling her stuffed toy.

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Later that evening, they were gathered around the dinner table, as Cynthia set out a roast chicken and mashed potatoes.

"How was your first day of kindergarten, Connor?" she asked, after Larry said a prayer and they began to eat.

"It was okay. A lot of the children were very noisy and some of them kept crying. But I didn't really cry." He looked proud of himself.

"That's great, Connor!" Cynthia said encouragingly.

"Yeah, and we also got to learn some alphabets. I can write them."

"Do you want to show me after dinner?" She asked. Connor nodded excitedly, unable to respond as his mouth was full of mashed potatoes.

"I want for dance class today!" Zoe excitedly informed him, not wanting to be left out.

"When?" he asked, confused.

"Today!" she repeated.

"This afternoon, honey, before we picked you up," Cynthia explained.

Connor glared at Larry. "You said Zoe was too young to go to class," he accused.

"I said she was too young to go to kindergarten," he corrected, "Not a class. She didn't go to kindergarten."

"Why can she go dance and I have to go to kindergarten?"

"So that she doesn't get lonely when you are—" Cynthia began.

"So I can become a ballerina!" Zoe exclaimed gleefully.

"Well, if I don't go to kindergarten, she won't be lonely," he argued.

"But honey, I thought you said that you liked kindergarten," Cynthia looked a little disappointed.

"I prefer to be home with Zoe…" he murmured, pushing a piece of chicken around the plate with his fork.

"You're home with her now," Larry pointed out.

"But the time is… smaller," Connor tried to explain. "We don't get to play together as much. And kindergarten is not as much fun."

"Dance is very fun," Zoe interrupted. "I get to be a ballerina!"

"Later can you show me?" he asked.

"Yup!"

After dinner was over, Connor sat on the floor, a blue marker in his right hand. "See—that's an 'A', my teacher said it's like a witch's hat."

"What's your teacher's name?" Zoe asked. "My ballet teacher is Mrs. Shapiro."

"Mine is Miss Anna," Connor replied, as he shakily wrote out another letter. "See? That one is a 'B'."

"That's really good, Connor!" Cynthia said, standing behind them.

"I can write a 'C' too!" He grinned, proceeding to do so.

"Actually," Cynthia gently said, "'C' goes the other way, yours is a mirror-image," she took the marker from him and demonstrated how to write it correctly.

"What's mirror image?" he frowned.

"It's like backwards," she smiled, handing the marker back to him.

Zoe took a marker from a drawer on the shelf. "Can I try now?"

"Okay," said Connor. "You can try 'A' first, because that's alphabet number one." Zoe gripped the marker tightly in her chubby hands, doing a relatively good copy of Connor's 'A'. "Yay! That's very good!" He cheered for her.

"Connor, can you be my teacher?"

He nodded. "Okay." She copied the 'B' down, but Connor, who was more easily distracted, suddenly asked, "Can you teach me to dance now?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "I'll do that later. I want to write letters first."

"Okay, write 'C' now," he said, pointing to the letter on the paper. "I think it's the easiest. And then after 'C', there is 'D', which is alphabet number four."

Zoe hummed the start of the alphabet song under her breath. "What about 'E'?"

"Oh, we haven't learned it yet. I think my teacher said we'll learn it tomorrow."

When she was done, Zoe ran into the kitchen, holding the paper in her hands, and Connor right behind her. "See, Mummy!" Connor taught me alphabet!"

Cynthia looked up, her hands dripping soap from washing the dishes. "Wow! That's really good, Zoe. And great job, Connor! You're a good big brother."

He grinned proudly.

"Now I'm going to teach him how to dance!" Zoe declared happily.

Cynthia laughed. "Wow, Zoe, that's awesome!"

"Come on, Con," Zoe half-dragged him upstairs to the playroom in her eagerness. She pushed their building blocks and LEGOs out of the way to clear some space on the floor.

"Wait, do you want to see my ballerina clothes?" she asked.

"Yup!"

She scrambled down the flight of stairs so quickly she almost tripped, ran into her bedroom, and pulled out her leotard, shoes, and tights from her dance bag. She carried them upstairs to show Connor, who was waiting patiently in the playroom. "See, this is my shirt, pants, and shoes."

"Where's the poofy skirt thing?" he asked, referring to the tutus he had once seen on television.

"We don't get it yet," Zoe said.

"Why not?"

"I think we need to become better ballerinas first," she replied thoughtfully. "I don't know. I didn't ask. That's just what they gave us."

"Okay, so can I have my class?" he whined impatiently as Zoe went to place the leotard and tights into the laundry basket. "Yeah, okay." They went back to the playroom. "Sit down," she ordered. He sat down and she took her place next to him. "Touch your toes."

He put a hand on his toes. "Like that?"

She giggled slightly. "No, you need to make your legs straight." She straightened her legs and leaned forward to touch her pointed toes.

Connor tried to do it, but his hands only reached his ankles. "I can't touch."

"You need to move forward more," Zoe furrowed her eyebrows, trying to figure out how to explain. In the end, she got up to push Connor from the back.

"Ow! Stop! That hurts!" Connor yelled.

"Sorry," she squeaked, quickly stepping back. "Just… try it by yourself."

He tried again. "I still can't."

"One of the girls in my class can't do it either, but my teacher told her to practice every day." She remembered.

"Dance is so hard," he muttered.

"It's not," Zoe insisted, reaching forward to touch her toes again. "It's super fun."

"Well, it's hard for me."

"Bedtime, kids," Larry called from downstairs.

"Okay," they shouted back from the playroom.

"Goodnight, Zoe," Connor said.

"Goodnight, Con," she said, then added, "Oh! And remember to practice every day?"

He chuckled. "Okay, I promise."

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